It has started to "hit me" that we are moving to another country. My residency will not be the United States. Yesterday, in cross cultural training class, I noticed the tiny bouquet of flags in the center of our table. The stars and stripes were, coincidentally, flying right beside our soon-to-be country's flag. I stared at it for a while, and as I did, it occurred to me that even if we move back to the U.S. in three years, this particular country (which I won't name for security reasons) will have become part of our family's story. Just then a girl across the table moved and I noticed a tattoo on her wrist, a tattoo of a verse in the language we will someday speak. I looked at my wrist and thought (though I'm fairly certain I will not get a tattoo) that a similar tattoo would someday make sense on my own wrist. These thoughts are baffling and lovely.
And just today, after lunch, I was practicing the phrase "thank you" in the language we are learning, and Bright, who overheard me from the across the room, said, "No, Mom, you don't say it THAT way." He then went on to correct me. I didn't know he even knew how to say thank you in that language, but alas, he DID sound more authentic than me and I took his advice.